Taking a Year To Be

I sat next to my mom on the beach and considered how similar we were in regards to career drive and ambition. It was Mother’s Day, and I was five days post-surgery. We were sitting on the seawall because I wouldn’t make it up and down the stairs to the sand. Technically I wasn’t supposed to even be walking yet, but I needed to get out of the apartment.

I buried my feet in the sand and thought about what she was suggesting. “All I’m saying, Holly,” she said, “is that you might want to take it a little easy. Maybe you just slow down this year. Don’t make any big changes. Don’t move, don’t change jobs, don’t start any companies, don’t take on anything extra besides work. Just be for a while.”

Who wouldn’t want to be told to do less, I wondered. Who wouldn’t want the opportunity to be lazy? And there it was. Right there. Lazy. Kicking ass at a full-time professional job, being in a wonderful committed relationship, writing two blogs, and founding a professional organization is lazy? I’ve always pushed myself to be more, better, faster. If I wasn’t the only person doing it, I’d better be the youngest person doing it. If younger people were doing it, I was doing more.

I’ve been teetering back and forth on whether or not the women in my family have bodies that are just not equipped to handle stress, or if we put an extraordinary amount of stress on ourselves which affects our bodies. Two of my aunts have battled cancer, breast and brain. My mother was emitted to the E.R. with chest pains for the first time at 42. The pre-cancerous cells my surgery and biopsy had revealed were most likely the result of stress, my doctor warned me in her office.

I had my first nervous breakdown as a high school junior. I was working part-time, volunteering in an at-risk school, going to school full-time, taking 4 Advanced Placement courses, and taking a night class at the local college. I crumpled like a ball in the living room when my mom scolded me over the laundry. It didn’t really slow me down though. By my senior year I was going to the local college full-time in place of high school classes, with the same extracurricular schedule. Who was I if not all those things – a star student, an impressive application/ resume, a good employee, a girl on the make?

So maybe that’s why I wasn’t surprised when my doctor eyed my chart after the second round of biopsies and said that the past three months of low-stress living hadn’t made a difference. Hadn’t I spent most of those three months stressing out about how to maintain my immense checklist of “low-stress” things to do? Wasn’t it only the last few weeks where I let myself go to whatever the results were, left it in Something Larger’s hands?

One painful, frightening surgery later (which I had um, postponed by a month so I could launch a professional organization), I sat next to my equally driven mother and took her words of advice. She knew. She was still pushing and climbing at 50. “It’s always there,” she said of ambition. “It’ll be there in a year.”

Who am I if not a ladder-climbing employee, a twenty-something entrepreneur, a moonlighting freelancer, The Person in Town Who Knows About That, a woman on the make?

I guess I’m a woman taking it easy.

Tempering my ambition and drive is something I’ve got to figure out in my life, otherwise this thing, this cancer is just going to keep coming up. And the risks are just too great to ignore.

And while I made up my mind on the beach that day, it wasn’t until today I had to act on it. I turned down a $500/mo. freelance gig. And it was in a type of work that I love and have wanted to do more of. I even initially agreed, but backed out after a long talk with my boyfriend and lots of prayerful contemplation this weekend. It was probably one of the hardest things, besides the surgery, I’ve had to do this year.

My greatest fear in giving up this year to maintaining the life I already have is that I will miss out on something, some opportunity, some chance, some big life-changing event. Then I realize that I just went through the life-changing event. I came head-to-head with so many fears over the six months I endured biopsies, waiting periods, immune system boosters, and surgery. In the end, if I don’t learn how to slow down and enjoy what I’ve built, I’ll miss out on so much more.

5 Things Not to Say to People in a Health Crisis (and What to Say Instead)

Last week I underwent a surgery I had been hoping to avoid. It was a dark cloud hanging over my head for 6 months. It started with a test, a biopsy, an ineffective attempt to rev up my immune system and a surgery.

The past 6 months have been an emotional rollercoaster as I faced the possibility of cancer and potentially damaging my child-bearing abilities. I had an amazing amount of support, not only from my loved ones and friends, but also from my friends in the blogosphere.

Let me say first that there is no wrong way to support a friend. But a health crisis can send a person into an emotional tailspin of anger, fear and loneliness. Here are a few things I learned along the way.

Don’t say: Lots of people go through it.
When I heard this (which was often since lots of women do have this surgery), it made my feelings seem insignificant. While it is soothing to some degree to know that you’re not going into completely uncharted medical territory, it is the first time for you and it shouldn’t be trivialized.

Do say: Here’s the contact information for someone who has gone through it.
I can’t count how many times people told me they knew someone who had the same surgery and how she was fine. But that didn’t lessen my fears. Great. Someone, somewhere has come out OK. Doesn’t help.

A few days before my surgery, a woman called me and said that she’d had the same surgery, although it had been 20-someodd years since. She told me exactly what she went through, from beginning to the end. That was the first time I felt comfortable.

So much of what we fear as humans is simply the unknown. The more firsthand information I acquired, the more at ease I felt. After my surgery, a few more women stepped forward and said they’d had it also. I wished that they had done so earlier.

Don’t say: There are people who’ve gone through worse.
I heard this a few times, and when I did, it made feel like total crap. Not only was I (still) facing surgery, but here I am feeling sorry for myself while children in Africa are dying of hunger and disease. Thanks for the helping of guilt – it goes great with my anxiety and fear.

Do say: Let me share my experience going through something worse.
Unless you’re the person who has gone through something worse, I wouldn’t touch this one. If you can’t offer sympathy, don’t offer guilt in its place. If you have faced a bigger challenge, then please share your experience.

An older gentleman friend of mine faced (and beat) cancer three times. Another girlfriend beat a brain tumor. Two of my aunts have in recent years survived breast and brain cancer. Having watched these people walk through their ordeals with grace and talked to them about their fears, where they found strength and courage, and how they coped, were invaluable lessons.

Don’t say: Keep your chin up.
The thing about clichés is that we don’t hear their meanings anymore. Our mind sort of glosses over them because we’ve heard them so much. Besides, who wants to keep their metaphorical chin up when they feel a punch coming?

Do say: Keep your shoulders back.
This is a challenge you’re facing, and you should be in full-on attack mode. It was hard to feel self-pity, sadness, fear, or weakness when I remembered to physically round my shoulders back and down. It made me feel strong, powerful, like I was ready for a fight. It’s sort of like the moment a runner laces her shoes up – her body is ready for the run. By keeping my shoulders back, I was ready to face my challenges head-on.

Don’t say: Don’t worry.
I know this is what people say when they’re searching for the right thing to say and it just isn’t coming. People who love us desperately want to see us feeling better, faster. And it seems like anytime someone said this to me, they were willing it with all their might to take the worry away from me. But someone in a crisis is going to worry. I felt like people were trying to shut me up sometimes, like closing their eyes to an ugly house in the neighborhood.

Do say: Tell me what you’re worried about.
I realize that my loved ones don’t want to think about the worst-case scenarios anymore than I do, but I needed to talk about what I was worried about. Would it be cancer? What if I can’t have children? What if something goes wrong in the surgery?

One of my tricks for beating fear is naming the monster. I ask myself what the worst-case scenario outcome is. That usually takes the fangs off a fear. I needed to be able to do that with someone close to me, to get it off my chest. My moods were so effected by my fears, that I would burst into tears at the breakfast table. “Don’t worry” ain’t gonna fix that. Talking it through will.

Don’t say: Everything will be fine.
This is a lot like “don’t worry” in that I think people say it when they have nothing else to say. I usually just sort of shook my head in agreement or mumbled a thank-you. It just doesn’t really say anything.

Do say: I’m praying for you, or I’m holding you in my thoughts.
While “you’re in my prayers/thoughts” sounds kind of clichéd, this is probably one of the things that warmed my heart the most and actually made me feel better when people said it. It told me that they cared, were thinking about me, and were offering to do the one thing they could actually do – pray for my well-being or send “good vibes” my way.

Even when I was an atheist, I welcomed people’s prayers in a crisis. I took a class in college about the mind-body connection and read about studies in which cancer patients who had an assigned prayer group praying for them survived at higher rates than control groups that did not have a prayer group. I believe in the power of lots of people sending positive thoughts and wishes for you into the universe.

My rollercoaster ended on Monday when my doctor declared me cancer-free. If I can learn to remove the stress in my life, I’ll (hopefully) never have to face it again. But that’s another post…

Photo courtesy My Lyn via Flickr.

Living Like Your Life Depends On It

Too often I hear people saying that my generation takes things for granted, that we act entitled and expect more than we’ve earned from life. And like all youth before us, we believe ourselves invincible, unstoppable, immortal. And while logically, I know that this is not true, I am guilty of acting like I have an endless string of tomorrows, too.

I like hamburgers. A lot. I have a thing for classic American food, like fried chicken, milk shakes, and French fries. I love McDonalds. And I’ve been known to down four Red Bulls one right after the other and still yawn at the end of the night. I don’t sleep enough. I push my schedule to the limits, suffering small breakdowns, edging out relaxing activities, and parsing out tiny increments of time to family once a quarter.

What I’d been doing was waiting until tomorrow for well, everything. I’ll just have a hamburger today, tomorrow I’ll eat healthier. I’ll see my family next weekend, when work is less stressful. I’ll start leaving the office sooner after this quarter is over; I’ll take a do-nothing day sometime later, once my business is off and running.

We treat life like bottomless chips and salsa - there will always be more when we run out.

Somewhere around the time Date #4 and I were splitting up, I got some unexpected news from my doctor. I needed a biopsy. I’ve had two biopsies in the past and some minor surgery to catch some low-level growth on my cervix before it progressed. No big deal. So I had the biopsy and waited, rather impatiently, for the results over the long Thanksgiving weekend. [I'd like to note that Date #4 drove me to and from my appointment and took amazing care of me. He even baked cookies.]

My doctor’s office called and said the results were normal. No abnormal cell growth. But we want you to come in and talk to the doctor anyway. Sure, sure. Great. No worries. I hang up the phone.

Wait.

Why does the doctor want to see me if everything is fine? My sister the nurse reassures me. “She probably just wants to talk to you about getting everything back to normal and keeping it that way,” she said.

Instead, my doctor tells me that the biopsy was normal. For my outer cervix. What that means is not that there are no problems – it means that they are deeper. In fact, the problem is so deep that the kind of biopsy required could compromise my ability to carry a pregnancy to term. [I assume by now I’ve lost most of my male readers.]

I had a decision to make. I could move forward with the more invasive biopsy, which will require hospitalization. Or, I could wait and see. Sometimes these things can go away on their own, my doctor tells me.

The bargain I strike goes something like this: I have three months to boost my immune system and then I have another test. In the meantime, I run the risk that the growth, which we know nothing about, is bigger or faster-growing than we think.

I’d like to say that things have changed in my life since that day. That I’ve learned the fine art of doing nothing, as one of my retired friends likes to say. That I’ve slowed down, eat healthy, exercise regularly, and am on the whole less stressed.

Pretty much the opposite is true.

I’ve read a lot about cancer and seen the effects of stress on family members and their health. I took a class in college all about how our minds and bodies are connected. I know that the more I believe I will be fine, the more likely I will be. But what a mind-screw.

What’s happened instead is that every time I realize how stressed out I am, I think, “Oh great. I just gave myself cancer.” And then I get more stressed out. Because what if I do want to have kids? What if the partner I haven’t even met yet wants kids? What if I freaking have cancer? And the lump in my throat grows.

Every one around me tells me it’s not a big deal; lots of women go through this. Yes, I know. But it’s not your ability to bear children, is it? I always think. It’s not you with the crap medical insurance in the hospital, is it?

And I stop and realize that none of this is helping. It’s actually making it worse.

Here’s what I should be doing, and my hope is that by putting it out here I can somehow make this next month go the way it needs to. Because in some sense, my life depends on the way I live.

Physical elements
Eating right – Cut out the crap. Insert the fresh. I prefer to eat six small meals throughout the day, and already have a meal plan for this. Guess what’s not on it? Fast food or junk food. It’s all about the many colors of veggies and fruits, with a healthy dose of lean proteins and whole grains. Bring it on.

No caffeine – I love my lattes. I was able to cut out caffeine for three weeks before I caved into Starbucks, aka the monkey on my back. It’s a comfort thing for me, and thus I won’t cut it out all together. Once a week shouldn’t hurt. But I’m glad to say I’m off my three-cup-a-day habit. I can honestly say I have more energy.

Lots of water – Water flushes the body out. By cutting out all other beverages, I realize how little water I would drink otherwise. I also firmly believe my mother’s gorgeous skin is due to her water addiction. It’s all that woman drinks and she’s got the skin of a 25-year-old.

Exercise – Up until the past two weeks, I had a rigorous exercise routine. Three 30-40 minute runs per week, a day of upper-body strength training, a day of lower body and a yoga/cross-training day. This was a good mix for me. The cardio helped my immune system, the strength training builds strong bones (which important for women since we’re prone to osteoporosis later in life – how many of us think of that every day?), and yoga or whatever other physical activity like fishing, kayaking or hiking allows me to be active in my life and enjoy it.

Vitamins – I’ve been taking pre-natal vitamins from the get-go. They boost your immune system like nobody’s business, plus they make your hair and nails grow super fast. It really makes you realize your body is a machine that works harder the more you take care of it. I’ve also been taking calcium (see osteoporosis comment above) and fish oil. I drink Echinacea tea once or twice a day. Hey, man, whatever you say might work, I’ll do it.

Mental
You’ve got to believe you’re going to be OK – This is what everyone tells me, including my doctor. I remember a study from that college course that showed that terminally-ill cancer patients had a higher survival rate if they were in denial than those who accepted their impending death. See also: The Secret.

Keep stress levels low – I have no idea how to do this. I thought perhaps if I could keep my schedule clearer, I would have more downtime and feel less stressed. But that doesn’t seem to work for me. I love all of my activities and have yet to learn the art of saying no. It’s hard to turn down projects when you want to grow your own business, especially when the economy is the way it is and you work in a dying industry. A friend recently told me I needed to embrace this about myself, and that would be the key to unlocking my stress. I do try to have one night a week that is clear of any activity. I spend that evening relaxing with a book, enjoying the quiet. This is definitely my weakest area and I welcome all advice related to this.

Renew – My life coach gave me some tips on how to do this. One is laughter. So I try to be around funny people, laugh at everyone’s jokes, and watch funny movies. It does help. Another is sleep. I try to get 9 hours a night, 8 at a minimum. Being in nature is another, and Date #4 has been kind enough to let me visit his country place out in the Hill Country. It is super relaxing, and I love tromping through the woods with his dogs and lazily kayaking in the river. Anything spiritually-related is good, which I’ll talk about below. Finally, believe it or not, music can be an invigorating activity. I love Explosions in the Sky for inspiring and uplifting me.

Visualization – OK, this is kind of gross, but part of what I do every day is to spend time visualizing a healthy, pink cervix. I even looked up a picture (thanks, Google Images). It looks like a fluffy pink doughnut, basically. I say to myself, I have a healthy, pink cervix. And I imagine it. Weird, I know, but again – I’ll do whatever will work.

Spiritual/Emotional
Faith works – Numerous studies have shown that people who have some kind of belief have higher rates of survival when facing illnesses. I’m not a religious person. To be honest, it just never worked for me. I do consider myself a relatively spiritual person, however. I believe in things like karma and hope reincarnation exists. I think that there’s a reason for things to happen, and I believe that things will turn out the way they’re supposed to. I also think that there is something bigger than binds us all. So, in some sense, I just try to trust that.

Prayer/meditation – In that same college course, I found out that people who had others praying for them generally survived also. I thought this was really interesting. There didn’t have to be a connection between the patient and the prayer-er. I like to think of it as “good vibes.” You’ve got all these good vibes coming in your direction – that’s gotta help, right? Spending quiet time in meditation and prayer also helps center an individual, quiets the mind, and can lower stress levels.

If you’re facing the same situation, I’m not sure what to tell you, except that you aren’t alone. Maybe that’s why I’m writing this. Because even though my friends and family are very supportive and kind, it’s an isolating thing. It makes you question your priorities, your lifestyle, your past decisions. It makes you realize that life is not bottomless, and that the things you feel entitled to, that you take for granted, may not be there in a month.

Photo: Courtesy JPhilipson via Flickr.

My life coach rocks

I believe that everyone ought to have a personal board of directors in their life… especially in your 20s. I’m only six years into this (thank god it’s halfway over!), but figuring out finances, romances, career aspirations, and general living sense eludes me from time to time. I seem to bump along fine for a few months, then WHAM! I get something that completely throws me off-kilter. I was just entering shaky ground when I met Jenny Ferry, a life coach.

Now, Jenny and I have never actually met, but I can imagine exactly how she would be from our phone and email interaction. Her warmth actually radiates in every hello via phone and every earnest closing of an email. Not many people can pull off that kind of emotion with sincerity, in this skeptic’s book.

Jenny specializes in helping twenty-something women find direction in whatever it is their having trouble with. We started by identifying what that might be for me. Just picking one or two things to work on was a challenge in and of its self. I believe my words were, “Ugh. Where do I start??” I was working two jobs, running my small business and writing this blog. I was in a new relationship and I was training for a half-marathon. I was just about to freak out.

I took a quick diagnostic survey. The career portion practically leapt off the page at us. That was definitely where we needed to start. Then there was this “fun” category. Fun? What’s that? Work is fun, I said. Heh. We were still going to work on it. “We’ll just sprinkle it in,” Jenny said. I could go along with that.

We tackled my four jobs first. I told her I felt like I had the ability to do all of these really great things, but I didn’t know how to pick just one, or even two to pursue. She helped me break it down and get it on paper. Once we did some simple evaluation and took a look at it, I was blown away. Right there, in black and white, I could see what was most important to me out of my four “jobs.” Blogging was by far and away my number one passion. It was followed closely by my marketing job, then came the café (which lost major points in the income category), and trailing abysmally behind was the one I was putting the most effort into – my IT company. According to that sheet of paper, it was my least favorite thing to do. And I had to agree.

“What can we take off your plate?” Jenny asked. Jenny always asks the hard questions. I drew my breath in sharply and deeply. Hearing me, she said, “Why don’t you spend some time on this one. Let me know what you come up with.” I talked over it with friends, and I thought about it. I looked at that sheet of paper and my decision was clear. I’ve since put the company on indefinite hold. I still have one client who doesn’t require much attention at the moment, but no efforts are being made to attract new ones. I’ve been able to concentrate on my blog more and to scale back my hours at the café so that it’s less work and more just-for-fun.

Jenny challenges me to step outside my boundaries in order to pursue what I want. At her suggestion, I have: asked for my hours to be changed at work, found a mentor at the corporate level, taken a relaxing bath, and have begun researching business schools for my MBA. I didn’t even know I wanted to get an MBA before I started working with Jenny. I was afraid to say that I want the thing that everyone says I don’t need.

One major exercise we did was crafting my life purpose statement. This single sentence would be a tuning fork for my entire life that I could use at any point to see if I was “in tune” with what I felt my life’s purpose was. I was definitely skeptical. After all, I’ve spent at least 14 years trying to find my purpose in life. I was a philosophy major, for crying out loud. In one hour, I’m going to find my life purpose. Yeah, right.

Yeah, right! My life purpose statement kicks some major ass. It is Holly with a capital H. I can go through my week knocking that tuning fork and know pretty much whether or not I’m lined up with my life’s purpose. It soothes me, it invigorates me, but most importantly, it reminds me of who I am and who I want to be. A life purpose statement is really personal, so I’m not going to share it here. You’ll just have to become friends with me and ask.

What Jenny does as a life coach is help define my goal and bring it into focus. We find my obstacles, which are usually my own limits, and then she promptly challenges me to knock them down. She does this with warmth, passion, enthusiasm and empathy. If we were in the same town, I have no doubt every meeting would end with a squeeze. But the woman will make you work – trust me. And in that work, you find yourself. You find these amazing little gems (courage, confidence, self-awareness) that were already inside of you, but you just didn’t know how to access.

I feel more in tune with myself and with my goals, and I feel more confident in the path I’m taking to achieve them. So often my 20s have felt like blindly groping for I-don’t-know-what in a black room. Jenny helps me shed a little light on what I’m looking for and how to grab it.

Allowing the Writer Within to Shine Through

It just hit me: I’m a writer.

It seems pretty silly that I’ve been blogging here at WorkLoveLife for eight months now, and I’ve only just realized that I’m a writer. This is not unique to me, I know. As blogging becomes more and more popular, others I read have questioned at what point you become a writer. And still others have argued against calling yourself a blogger at all.

I’ve come to realize in the past few months that writing has a place in my soul. It allows me to purge, it allows me to mull and remember, and it allows me to connect. And I love words. I took Latin throughout high school, which really boosted my vocabulary. I love the idea in linguistics that the more words we know, the more efficiently and effectively we are able to communicate. I love finding the perfect word or set of a words that most accurately conveys what I’m trying to say. And I even like that I can’t always find them… indescribable is a good place to be, in my book.

But today, I realized that I am writer. Not just a blogger or a lover of words or a novice, even.

The past few days have been hectic – work is hectic and I have meeting and appointments crammed into every nook and cranny of my waking hours. This evening is my first free evening since Friday. I have a half-marathon I signed up for in two weeks that I am ill-prepared for. Tonight could be a night for training. But when I asked myself do you want to run or do you want to write? Would you like to do the half-marathon or would you like to write? The answer reverberated throughout my head: We want to write.

So I didn’t bring my running clothes. I brought my laptop. Because when I neglect my running, I don’t feel half so unbalanced as when I neglect my writing.

I’d like to be a great many things in my life, and I imagine I wouldn’t be great at many of them, but it sure would be fun. My life coach says that I should honor the Holly Who Writes if I want to – I don’t have to be the Holly Who Runs Marathons right now. That’s pretty amazing to me. I thought if I was one, I couldn’t be the other.

I know that the Holly Who Runs Marathons is inside of me, but right now, it’s time for the Holly Who Writes to shine through. Not everything has to be done at once, and not everything has to be done to the nth degree. What a concept.

Photo courtesy Shiny Things via Flickr Creative Commons.

A schedule monger no longer

When I was in high school and college, I did not doodle fruitlessly as so many other students did. Well, I did that too, but I what I really loved was making schedules of my to-do lists. Take your typical to-do list, put it on steroids and map it across the hours. I made to-do schedules for the rest of the day (drawn up in quarter-hours and containing items like “eat dinner” and “read Being and Time pgs 48-101) all the way up to the month, semester, even year (divided up by months and containing items like “graduate” and “find job”).

It soothed me. When I got my new job (15 months ago now) and started my various other jobs, meetings, dating, etc. I bought a good old paper day tracker and carried it with me everywhere. It’s pretty cool to look back to a year ago and see what I was doing then. It is way more detailed than my memory.

Lately, though, my schedule-making hasn’t been soothing me.

Ever since Date #4 and I became exclusive, the art of scheduling has started to elude me. Some of you might say this is a good thing, that being so scheduled is being too rigorous and well, uptight. Date #4 is not a plans kind of guy, which does get under my skin a bit. I don’t think either of us is right or wrong, like I might’ve believed in the past (pre-sobriety); it’s just a difference in the way we live our lives. The cool thing is that he recognizes it and understands me. The other morning, for example, I asked if he was staying over later that night. He wasn’t sure. Around lunch, he still didn’t know: “I know you don’t like not knowing, but I’m still not sure yet.” I was OK with that. I merely wanted to know whether or not I should go ahead and fix dinner for myself.

So, part of the problem is that since Date #4’s plans are never settled, I don’t feel settled. If it were up to me, I would have everything through this weekend planned. It’s very uncomfortable for me to not even know whether or not he’s going to be in town, if we're going to hang out, etc. Not because of him, but because schedules soothe me. They are predictable and I know what to expect. The underlying roots of this are actually one of the things I’m working on with my counselor.

The real reason my schedule-making hasn’t had the soothing effect I’m used to getting is that now that I realize why it is that I do it. I also realize that becoming upset when things don’t go according to plan and sticking to it for the sake of sticking to it are just manifestations of a perceived threat, that threat being inconsistency and instability, which are not actually present in my life.

Looking back at a post from just a few months ago, I realize how far I’ve come. And that in itself soothes me.

Some things really are sacred

I won’t be writing as much about love and relationships as I have been lately. I do, however, want to explain why because I am very committed to being open and honest with you guys. While it didn’t take me long to make this decision, it was a difficult one. My readers have told me repeatedly that they enjoy my relationship posts the most and that made it difficult, because I want to give you what you like to read.

That said, two big things came up yesterday, aided by one little comment on another blog. One is that I have entered weekly counseling. If you read this blog regularly, then you know I’ve been in a funk. And since I’ve always been completely honest with you all, you seem to know me, and you’ve been asking if I’m OK. After a few months of trying different things (exercise, diet, time alone, time together, on meds, off meds, relaxing), I’ve come to the conclusion that I can’t fix this one on my own.

A major part of my counseling centers around what it is that makes a strong, independent, intelligent young woman like myself turn into a weak, self-doubting nervous wreck in relationships. Call me crazy, but I think I need to give myself some privacy to work out these issues. My counselor has also asked me to keep the content of my sessions between him and me. Besides, I really don’t think you’ll want any relationship advice from the likes of me.

Also, Date #4 has been an avid reader since we first got together. The freedom I have enjoyed thus far in letting my writing roam far and wide through my relationship-related thoughts has lasted a lot longer than I thought it would. At this point in my relationship, I think it’s time to back off for both our sakes. I have to admit that there are posts I have would have a hard time dealing with if I were in his shoes.

A special thanks to Dad’s House here. The author responded in his own comment section on writing about relationships while they are ongoing: “In fact, I don’t blog about any relationships while I’m in them, out of respect to the other person.” It honestly hadn’t occurred to me that I was being disrespectful to Date #4 by broadcasting my joys, fears, and issues regarding our relationship to the world. Like I said, I’m not sure you want to take relationship advice from me.

Now, don’t think that I’m being secretive. I am happy to answer any questions you might have, love-related or otherwise, via email. Those of you who have emailed with me know I’m an open book. And this isn’t to say I won’t ever blog about love, my relationship, etc. I will, but only when I can be as open and honest as you are used to me being and can offer you something valuable without hurting anyone in the process.

Hey, maybe I’ve achieved some work/love balance after all.

Photo by dimi15 via Flickr.

Work/love balance: The new work/life balance struggle

When I began to hear the phrase “work/life balance” thrown around, I figured it didn’t apply to me. It was my older coworkers with family who mostly used it. Work/life balance meant “time with the kids and spouse.” So I dismissed it. It had nothing to do with me, single childless Holly who has the energy to work three or four jobs and train for marathons.

Then I got a boyfriend.

Anyone who has read this blog for the past 8 weeks or so knows that I’ve struggled to keep everything on my plate plus boyfriend on the side, but things keep slipping off like some overly eager kid’s plate at the dessert buffet. I’ve talked to friends, mentors, even a life coach, listed my priorities, and promptly removed… nothing.

There are so many things I want to pursue that I can’t imagine cutting anything. It’s asking a lot that I’m not adding anything. 

So, I’ve struggled to show the boyfriend that I am committed to us, that I’m willing to put in the time, that I want to spend time together. Actually, that might not be true. I think all I’ve really done is figured out ways to carve out pieces of the week where I can relax or do some work with him. At any rate, this is a new class of balancing act for me – the work/life balance.

Huh? Work-what balance? To me, life and work are fairly seamlessly integrated. I’m not sure what I’d rather be doing on a Sunday besides sitting in my favorite café with a hot chocolate, blogging my guts out. Who wouldn’t want to be integrating a printer into a wireless network on a Tuesday evening? I can honestly say that most nights I would rather be slinging coffee than watching television on the couch.

Instead of saying “Life? What life?” I have “Work? What work?” Unfortunately, it does take up a lot of time though, and I wonder at the end of the day what kind of energy I have leftover for my relationship – for love. I would say the majority of nights I dive headlong into my bed and I’m literally lights out before the BF flips the switch.

So what does this new work/love balance thing mean? I’m not really sure. I can’t say I’ve got it figured out. Perhaps it’s a sign of my youth, but mostly fear swirls around it. If you’re in love, should you place a higher value on that rather than your work? Should one or the other be the entrée and the other the side dish? Is it a matter of finding a person who makes you want to stop spending so much time on your work, makes you think it’s the higher value automatically? Is my relationship to my work and career so perverse that I should just give up on love altogether?

In all honesty, I am sometimes struck with the fear that my work is my only one true love in life. I have no doubt that God made me and business out of the same clay, sprinkling entrepreneurship in my blood like stars in the sky. It’s always there for me, ready to make my day, impatient when I’m away and greeting me with new ideas and excitement. Where does love fit into my already-existent love affair with work?

I glance at the title of my website, WorkLoveLife. People have asked me if that’s how I prioritize the three, if it means anything special. Honestly, it was the only combination of those three words available for a domain name. But, maybe that is it’s significance in my life – at the end of the day, I make work, love and life fit together the only way available to me.

Photo by RaidersLight.

Finding Your Primary Aim Becomes Critical When Taking On a Partner

When I first decided that I wanted to have my own company, someone recommended that I pick up a copy of “E-Myth Revisited” by Michael Gerber. That book has had an indelible impact on my life and the way I approach my business.

Last month I asked a colleague who I have collaborated with often if he would like to come on board my little company as a partner. The decision to start a business was a big one for me, and I’m very passionate about it. I know that sacrifices will have to be made, relationships may become strained, and free time might become non-existent. These are all things I am willing to take on for my business.

So when approaching my potential partner, I needed for both of us to be sure that this would be a good fit. He understands the role he would be taking on, and the responsibilities that go along with it. The thing that most people don’t realize is that this is like a marriage. You have to make sure that you’re compatible and that you want the same things for your future.

I turned to “E-Myth” for help. Gerber emphasizes the need for all business owners to first clarify what their primary aim is. Part of the reason so many people start their own businesses is so that they can live the life they want. It’s important to sit down and intentionally design the life you want to lead. Once your purpose and mission is clear, then you can start to build a company that will help you accomplish that life.

These are the questions Gerber says you need to answer:

1. What do I wish my life to look like?
2. How do I wish my life to be on a day-to-day basis?
3. What would I like to be able to say I truly know in my life, about my life?
4. How would I like to be with other people in my life – my family, my friends, my business associates, my customers, my employees, my community?
5. How would I like people to think about me?
6. What would I like to be doing two years from now? Ten years from now? Twenty years from now? When my life comes to a close?
7. What specifically would I like to learn during my life – spiritually, physically, financially, technically, intellectually? About relationships?
8. How much money will I need to do the things I wish to do? By when will I need it?

I have already answered the questions, and now my potential partner is working on them. When he finishes, we’ll share our answers with each other. Based on that, we’ll be able to see what each other want for the future, and whether or not this company will be a vehicle for both of us to those lives.

By the way, I recommend these questions to anyone searching for purpose in his or her life or for clarification thereof, whether starting a business or not.

Why I might be OK with having children

If you haven’t read my previous post about my issues with mamahood, then go for it so you can get an idea of how serious I’ve been about not wanting kids. My sentiments are also echoed here and here [hat tip: Penelope Trunk; TwentySet]. Now, bear in my mind that the decision I’m scrutinizing is my own, and not the decision of whether or not to have kids in the empirical sense.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about this lately, primarily because (of course) it is an issue in my fledgling relationship. Granted, we’ve both agreed that it’s not an immediate issue, but he would like to have at least one child with whomever he marries. It’s no secret that I’m crazy about the man, but I’m not willing to agree to children just because that’s what he wants.

We have had a lot of conversations about it though, and it's got me thinking about it on my own. As I began to examine my issues with having kids, talking about it openly and honestly with friends of differing ages, marital and child status, and watching people with kids more closely, I started to realize how close-minded I’ve been.

I began to realize that my problem is not with actually having kids, but that they become an end in themselves and not a side effect of living the life I’d like.

A few things happened leading up to this realization. One, I’ve been talking with a mentor of mine who is 50 and has the coolest relationship with her daughter I’ve ever seen. I have no qualms being totally open and honest with her, even with the ugliest parts of myself. She pointblank told me one afternoon that I was being close-minded when it came to my thinking regarding family life. I realized that I was assigning arbitrary labels to people and making assumptions about their lives based upon that. Married, divorced, middle-aged, overweight, with or without kids, single, thin, etc. Does the label make the experience of the life?

Somewhere around that same time I was leaving Date #4’s house, and an early-thirties-ish couple walked by with a stroller and a grandparent in tow. They were just taking a Fourth of July stroll after a fresh rain, chatting and such. “That’s probably the best thing that could ever happen to me,” was the unwelcome thought that popped into my head. Whoa. Where’d that come from?

On my drive home, I rolled it around in my head and realized the truth of it. I’ve seen a lot of families that are happy, in which the parents continue to live dreams independent of their children. While their families greatly enhance their happiness, their kids are supplemental to the happiness that they already experience in life. They are not, and never did, expect children to be the main source of their happiness in life. They are simply one of the aspects of their life that they derive joy out of.

I have been watching a few families in my life since I began to seriously evaluate this issue. One is a young couple who have probably the cutest baby girl I’ve ever seen. I’ve said before that if I could insure that a child of mine would come out that cute, happy and well-mannered, I’d have kids without a doubt. The thing is that I watch the parents, too. They’re happy, and appear to be very much in love. I’m not close to them, and so they may have more problems than I’m aware, but they seem like fairly transparent people. I see them together, separate, and with their families. I won’t lie – there is a part of me that craves a normal family life because of the dysfunctional part of mine. They are always friendly and seem to possess a sense of peace about their lives.

I also watch my older female mentor and her family closely. She’s been a single mom for a long time, and her daughter is a well-adjusted, intelligent young woman. She has self-confidence at 13 that I still wish I had. The openness and frankness with which they deal with the little and big things in their lives is truly inspiring to me. It gives me goose bumps. That family probably has the most irreverent sense of humor I’ve been privy to and they have a lot of fun in their lives. It’s clear that they simply enjoy the ride.

Finally, I watch the families that make me not want kids. In doing so, I’ve come to realize that the thing that bothers me is not that they have children, but what their intentions or preconceived notions were in doing so. They all have a few things in common for the most part. One is that they had their children too young and/or too soon into a relationship/marriage. I’ve watched people have kids and treat them as accessories, and I’ve seen people have kids because they wanted something to love. They were trying to fill a hole that remains unfilled. And now they have kids to take care of when they didn’t know how to take care of themselves in the first place. (Side note: I was in the ER with my grandmother last night and a 17-year-old came in with impacted bowels, i.e. constipation. Her second birth and she didn’t realize that she should’ve been drinking lots of water, eating fiber, and probably shouldn’t have waited a week to tell the doctors she hadn’t had a bowel movement. If you can’t take care of yourself, how will you raise a child?)

I guess my point is that as Gen-Y women we’ve been told that “having it all” is a myth. That makes me feel like I have to choose between my career and having a child. It’s saying that I won’t be able to do both. While I know that to some extent one suffers at the hands of the other, I’ve been watching this young couple juggle a baby and a new business successfully. By successful, I mean that the baby is clearly happy and well cared for, the business is doing very well, and they both seem extremely happy and still in love, though at times admittedly tired.

It gives me hope. Perhaps I can live life happily without any sacrifices.

Introducing a new person into your life

When I met Date #4, I wasn’t looking for anything serious. I was simply mixing a little business with pleasure when my online dating research yielded a surprising result – a dateable, attractive man with whom I was compatible. My life was run at a hectic, but efficient and highly effective pace. There simply wasn’t a whole lot of room. I liked it that way.

Things started slowly. I told him I wasn’t looking for anything serious, that I was, ahem, very busy and important. No time for a relationship, not looking for that sort of thing. He said he understood, respected my priorities, etc.

Then I fell in love with him.

The “serious” thing needed revising, obviously. As two people are apt to do when they find they enjoy one another’s company, we spent a lot of time together. 

A lot.

I stopped running. I stopped blogging as regularly. I stopped doing laundry and grocery shopping. I was deep in Cloud Cuckoo Land, as I like to call it. That place where newly formed couples spend way too long looking into each other’s eyes, sleeping really late on weekends, and having lots and lots of hot monkey sex. 

As much as I knew this was going to happen, I couldn’t stop it. Perhaps I didn’t want to stop it. What the hell? Falling in love is fantastic. Why skip all the fun stuff and move straight into routine? 

Incorporating Date #4 into my life isn’t the same as making a new friend or having a relative move into town. This is someone that I hope to have a meaningful relationship with. Anyone who has been in a relationship for a period of time knows that it takes time to get to know someone. I liked Date #4 and I wanted to learn about him – that takes time. Granted, you can take your time getting to know someone, but I tend to be an extremist with a “good” button instead of an “easy” button. If it makes me feel good or happy, I’ll slam that damn button till it’s broke. Luckily, I didn’t do that here.

Armed with a little bit of knowledge of myself and my habits, I tried to resist Cloud Cuckoo Land, but it was simply too alluring. GIWS and I had managed to see each other only once a week, twice tops, throughout the few months we dated. I tried to do this again, but to no avail.

When I got sick (again), my frustration reared its head. I had gained 5 lbs. I was completely out of racing shape. I’d been eating entire meals out of the vending machines at work. Thanks to my fourth sinus infection this year, I was waylaid and unable to stay awake long enough to do anything other than go to work. I reached my breaking point when my libido disappeared. WTF?!

A week later, I got better and I got some perspective. Date #4 and I have been together for only two months. I realized that I could maintain my old schedule and kick him out of my life or I could find a new routine. That period of everything going to hell was just a slash-and-burn method of prepping the soil for a new life. One that involves the man that I love and all the activities I love.

What I ended up having to do was first explain to him what was going on in my head. He understood and didn’t take it personally at all, which was essential for me to feel comfortable moving forward. I explained to him that there are a lot of things I enjoy doing that I haven’t been doing lately, and that I need a routine or schedule in order to make it all fit into my life.

I looked at my schedule, needs and priorities. I looked at his schedule, needs and priorities. He has two dogs, so he can’t stay over too often. I live out of the way of my work and his house, so I have to bring all my stuff for work if I’m staying over. It made more sense to do all that if I were staying two nights in a row. For both of our sanity and respect of personal space, I decided two nights apart would be good for us. Thus, a schedule emerged. I would stay with him Wednesdays and Thursdays, and he would stay with me on Tuesdays and Fridays. Sundays and Mondays we had off, and Saturdays I left to whim (even I don’t try to plan everything).

I make sure to bring my running shoes to his place and try to take the dogs out with me. I also run on the evenings we’re not seeing each other. The beginning of the week can be overwhelming for me, so that’s why I picked those two days to spend apart. It gives me the time to work on my blog, get my clothes ready for the week, and to generally spend time with myself, which I think is important in any relationship.

Once I identified the problem and communicated that to him, I was able to then ask, what now? How can I have both – him and my old life? Planning the nights was a great first step. It allows me to plan what will need to happen and when. The other stuff is simply up to me. Once I finished the relay marathon I had spent months training for in May, I had a hard time staying motivated, so I signed up for a race on July 4 and started looking for more to keep me running.

Maybe this is easy for some people to figure out, but I was really happy being single. My life was happy and whole when I met Date #4, so much in fact that if it weren’t for my sister’s sage advice to not let opportunities pass me by, I probably wouldn’t have made the leap.

I’m glad that I did, but that period of transition can be tough. I think it’s important to be honest with yourself, to communicate your frustration without laying any blame, and to get into the solution. Dwelling in the problem while I was sick yielded nothing but a depressing blog post (sorry!). Once I decided to try a solution, I was already feeling like my old self and it didn’t take long to get back on track.

Oh, and my libido came back. Thank god.

[Photo credit: Evan Romine]

When "Relaxation" Becomes Plain Lazy

I’m staring back at my reflection wearily. I’ve just finished washing my face for bed when I realize why I’m so tired of looking at myself in the mirror every night. It smacks me it comes back so suddenly. This is what you looked like before you got a grip, I remember.

There’s a lack of color here. There’s been a lack of color since… since… when did it fade? Somewhere around falling in love and completing my relay marathon only a month ago. I used that week after the race to “reward myself.” I let myself eat poorly and slack off on my training… way off. As in, didn’t do it all.

That week has yawned into a month.

I can feel the little roll at tummy when I slump in my bad posture. It isn’t just that my face has lost color and that I have probably put on two or three pounds. I haven’t been sleeping enough, not what I call a healthful amount. I haven’t been going to enough meetings and I can feel that my spiritual well-being is affected. I’ve been eating entire meals out of the vending machine at work.

This isn’t the dark cloud of grief that rolled overhead back at the beginning of April. This is laziness. Knowing how to pick myself up and not being willing to do the work to bring that about. In my 12-step program, we say that when the pain is enough, we will act.

Luckily my threshold for pain has become amazingly low. Tonight, one glance in the mirror does the trick. I’m tired of being lazy, I assert to my innermost self. This sucks. Let’s quit this shit and get on with the rest of it.

I could go on and on as to why this has happened – work has been slow and uninspiring, a new relationship needs attention, there are things to do besides train for races that are months away. Excuses. Excuses I’ve been willing to make and accept because I am lazy and unmotivated. So here I am. Out of racing shape, pallid faced with an upset stomach and three pounds heavier. I’ve even been reduced to participating in pointless blog commenting, something I usually have enough serenity to not get involved in.

This one is all on me. I’ve written before about accountability partners and the wonders they can work for helping you to stay motivated. That’s fine and well, unless you stop calling them… especially when you want to avoid being, er… accountable.

In the past I could spend an entire blog post on how I’m going to pull my shit together, exactly what I’ll do and in what order to get things back on track, reassure you the reader that I am indeed doing it. And then promptly sit on my ass for two more weeks before I finally follow through. I won’t do that here. I’m not sure when my motivation will come back to me or when exactly I’ll decide that it’s been enough.

I think I just did though.

Forget Relaxation - Take A Bliss Break

It’s been suggested that I’m wound a *little* tight. I’ll be the first to admit that I have problems relaxing. I tend to be sort of a black-or-white, stop-or-go kind of person, at least when it comes to my work and myself. For the past five months or so, I haven’t been able to let go of this tension. I’ve sort of had this feeling that I need it to keep going, that somehow relaxing would cause me to lose my momentum. 

On the other hand, I know that I need to relax every now and then; otherwise I won’t be as productive as I could be. And so it has been with this in mind – increased productivity – that I have set about trying to “relax.” Like any good workaholic, I schedule a break. I cordon off a largish chunk of the day and I say this is where I will relax. 

It never works. For some reason all I can think is something along the lines of “Hurry up and relax so we can get revitalized and work better!” It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that not a lot of relaxing gets done this way. And yet, bull-headed and not really knowing any other way of doing it, I keep trying the same thing expecting different results.

So when Date #4 asked if I would like to steal away to his property in the Hill Country for the weekend, I said yes without a second thought. I wondered if it were possible that I could actually unwind finally. Would I be able to release the tension I’d been holding so tightly to me for the past five months?

I won’t lie: I brought my laptop with me and double-checked with D#4 that there would indeed be Internet access. And bless his heart, he let me bring it, warning me that I wouldn’t want it once I got there.

Indeed, as we drove onto smaller-still roads that turned to gravel, I thought two things: one, is he gonna kill me out here; and two, you’d have to get me this far away from things to quiet my mind. I am pleased to report that the majority of the weekend was spent in sleep (10 hours every night for three nights), in bed (ahem), reading fiction (fiction?!), talking, or hiking and swimming.

The weekend was in a word blissful. (Merriam-Webster defines bliss as "complete happiness.") I had let go of every thought of work, this blog, my company… I wasn’t consciously attempting to relax. I had sort of given up on the idea. I finally let go of the part of myself that felt guilty or anxious for indulging in day-long pajama-wearing or 48 hours without e-mail (gasp!).

I came back to work refreshed and ready to tackle a lot of projects I’d been putting off. I was much more focused than I had been (that might have had something to do with all of the sleep I got), and my mind was swirling with new business ideas. And, of course, this post.

What is the most blissful thing you could do for yourself? Maybe it’s as simple as a pedicure, calling in a sick day to go surf, or spending 48 hours in the country. Try to make it happen this weekend. See how much more productive you are on Monday.

The Subtle Allure of A Life More Ordinary (or the Brainwashing of American Women)

There’s something about magazines like Real Simple and TV shows like House Hunters that depresses me. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but every time I attempt a sit on the couch post-work I am irritated by things like Everybody Loves Raymond. There’s a part of me that is suspicious that these forms of entertainment have been created to make us believe that not only are you content with your life, but you are enthusiastic about it, a subtle (or not-so-subtle, in my opinion) brainwashing of home-improving, toddler-yogaing, exasperated-but-happy-at-the-end-of-the-day, we’re-the-same-kind-of-unique status quo. Welcome to the new yuppiedom.

Maybe I’m just feeling particularly fed up with the new American dream this evening, as I sit in my underwear, toenails unpainted and unmanicured, eating Oreos with orange juice, wondering why I’m throwing 5 months of perfectly good conditioning down the drain. Maybe it’s that I’ve recently fallen in love and have caught myself twice already daydreaming into that magical land I call Not A Chance in Hell.

That place involves a relationship that can survive my apparent two-year statute of limitations with a guy who looks like a J. Crew model, a baby as cute and happy as the one that couple at the café has that will magically disappear when it needs to be fed/changed/burped or cries inexplicably, a house that requires little-to-no maintenance which of course we obtained at a steal, a thriving business that I built and doesn’t require me to be around all the time, and a Holly who does not feel overwhelming pinned-down and caged by it all.

Puh-shaw.

That’s when I turn off the TV. And call Real Simple to remind them, once again, that I unsubscribed two months ago. I fight off the sneaking suspicion that somehow, somewhere my father has bribed a Starbucks barista to spike my lattes with hormones. I have been told repeatedly that one day I will want all of these things. When I get a case of the I-just-want-to-be-upper-middle-class blues, I daydream another life.

In this life I usually am married, or in a long-term committed relationship. Yes, I am happy and content being single, but like many, I would like to have a companion through life. I think a character in Shall We Dance? sums it up best when she says people get married so that in a world of billions, one person says they will be the witness to your life. I agree with this. 

At any rate, 90 percent of me says no to kids. This is mostly a financial decision in my mind. Yes, I know you can be financially well off and have kids also, but the majority of folks are not. Here are a few examples of childless couples who are financially better off than their peers (especially where it comes to retirement). And here’s an entire online community dedicated to couples who have chosen not to have kids for a variety of reasons. I take comfort knowing that I'm not the only one out there like me.

Mostly, though, this daydream life is about being able to do the things I am passionate about without any compromises or guilt feelings, such as diving tirelessly into my own businesses, having a partner who I still find sexually appealing, coming nowhere close to any variety of poop/snot/vomit, and traveling at will and on whim.

I have nightmare versions of both of my daydreams, too. There’s one that revolves around divorce, debt, failed parenthood and suburbia, and there’s one that mostly involves being alone for the rest of my life realizing at 47 that all I really ever wanted was a family. These things occur to me. It also occurs to me that none of these scenarios are realistic, and that in life we end up somewhere in the middle. The glory part is that I actually know that I will be happy whichever dream I pursue or end up with inadvertently (life has a way of surprising us). My happiness resides within me, whatever the exterior.

In the meantime, no more HGTV for me. Or Oreos for that matter.

How I Maturely Ended a Relationship… For the First Time

Guy I’ve Been Seeing and I hadn’t seen each other in probably two weeks. With the website taking off at the same time as my IT consultancy, I had become insanely busy. GIBS was almost equally busy with his career. When we were seeing each other, it was pretty much for, er, one thing.

During this particularly long stretch between sightings, I’d got to thinking about our relationship. Hold on a second. I just said relationship. That’s not what’s supposed to happen. GIBS is thus named for a reason. I had such a mortal fear of saying BF, GIBS was the shortest description I could come up with to describe our association to friends and family members. But here it was four or five months into it, and how long could you possibly just be “dating” someone?

With my career taking off in so many different directions, I knew time was going to be limited. I got to thinking about GIBS though. All of this really great stuff pretty much started because of him and that question he asked on our second date. He was always there for me – supporting me, holding me accountable, pushing me through the tough parts when I wanted to give up. He could pump me up when I needed it, and he could celebrate my successes. And he genuinely felt them. I could pretty much tell him anything. I respected his opinion and sought his advice on most things.

Holy crap, I thought. He’s one of my best friends.

I certainly didn’t want to ruin things with my best friend. At the same time, I knew that it wasn’t going to work as a couple. Neither one of us were cut off for coupledom, at least for the time being. We’d talked repeatedly about our relationship fears, our happiness in being single, etc. Every time I ended something with someone though, we never really stayed friends. We might talk, but it eventually tapered off or imploded when I realized they were holding onto the friend card thinking I would change my mind.

I talked it over with one of my mentors (people, if you haven’t already, find an older person you respect, admire and talk openly with on all matters). I decided honesty was the best policy. I sort of had this feeling that he might be feeling the same way I was anyhow.

So our schedules finally synced up and we went for sushi. We talked about the great and busy things in our lives – my new apartment, his new house, my IT consultancy taking off, his big trips coming up.

“Well, it sounds like we’ve both got really full lives right now,” I commented, looking down at the table. I raised my eyes and gave him a knowing look. He met my eyes and I could tell he was thinking the same thing.

“Look, with all this stuff going on, it just seems like maybe we don’t have time for a relationship,” I pushed through.

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking that lately, too,” GIBS agreed, looking relieved.

“Here’s the thing though,” I continued. “You’ve actually become really important to me.” I told him everything I’d realized about he and I as friends. I told him that he’d become one of my best friends and that friendship is a rung higher than a relationship in my book.

“So you don’t want me to just go away?” he asked.

“No!” I reassured. “Look, I need you as a friend.”

We continued talking and walked to our cars. I wondered, and hoped, that we would really stay friends. And we have. I think we’re actually closer than we were when we were dating. We talk on the phone regularly, text our triumphs and ‘how you doing’s to each other often. We hang out, and true friend that he is, he helped me move this past weekend. We’ve had dinner and great, interesting conversations. I feel like I’m more myself around him than ever, because just like any other friend, I figure he’ll figure my faults and flaws. I don’t fear judgment. I can roll over to his place sans make-up and not give a crap since we’re just friends anyways.

And while the FB card is definitely on the table, I’ve filed it away for a rainy day. Today I’m totally cool being good friends.

Note: Hereto forward, GIBS will be known as GIWS (Guy I Was Seeing).

Optimize Your Space for Maximum Productivity – And Happiness

I made a big move this weekend, in the physical sense, as well as less literally. I moved to a new apartment in a new part of town, and it’s as if I’ve officially started a new phase in my life.

I don’t know if it’s my age, or the situation I found myself in, but I never really could find an apartment that I liked and that I could also afford. Plus, I was living with someone, so compromises had to be made (this place was closer to his work, that place was cheap enough for our budget, etc.). When we split, I had to find a place quick. The place I took was too expensive for my budget, so I downgraded severely as I tried to reign in my spending and get back on my feet financially after losing my job, my car, my dual income living situation and getting sober.

It took me a year. Soon after I celebrated my one-year anniversary last month, I signed a one-year lease on a condo on North Padre Island (the beach!). The past two weeks have been downright unbearable as I waited and waited for moving day to come. And tonight, going back to the old apartment I had come to disdain so much to do the final cleaning, time crept so slowly I thought it would stand still. Finally, I drove off, and immediately called a friend to announce I was leaving the old apartment for the last time. Hallelujah!

I guess the point I’m trying to make in a roundabout way is how our surroundings affect us. I took my previous apartment because it was cheap. That was the only reason. I figured for the price I could stand just about anything. Not so. I grew to dislike it so much that I never wanted to be there. Even when I needed to do work or read, I would go somewhere else to do it. I’m not sure exactly what it was – it could’ve been the grey carpet, or the circa-1978 fixtures, or the unrespectable neighbors. It could’ve been merely what it represented to me – a time in my life where frugality was the biggest necessity, an era of character-building hardship.

Even only half-way unpacked, I love spending time in my new home so much, I look forward to returning to it all day, unlike my previous apartment, which I dreaded going home to. For the first time in my life, everything seems like it belongs. The furniture belongs, the paintings belong, and the towels match. I belong. I guess it feels like my space, my own home. It’s a wonderful feeling.

As I move my company into a new area – office optimization – how your space affects you is something that I will be focusing on. Certain colors soothe (blue), while others energize (orange). There is an optimal set-up to achieve maximum productivity in every space. As I move into my new apartment, I’m trying to achieve this with my own space.

It’s about more than just achieving maximum productivity though. It’s about being able to enjoy the space that you’re working in. One of the coolest office set-ups I’ve ever seen is at Pixar, and Microsoft Research has some pretty cool ones too. My offices at work are painted in two shades of green – bright grass green and cool pastel green. It’s energizing and somehow always makes it feel fresh in there.

The best offices, in my opinion, are wireless and paperless. Why not set up Wi-Fi and give everybody laptops? Make spaces that go beyond traditional cubicles and desks. I had the opportunity to redesign a previous company’s space, and that was exactly what I lobbied for. Instead of desks, there were tables and comfortable sofa chairs. Instead of a separate office for every employee, the rooms were separated by function. There was a meeting room, a brainstorming room, a library/”quiet” room, a multimedia room, and a break room. Each one had a different tone to match its function. The brainstorming room was looser, had brighter colors and rearrangable furniture. The library had bean bags and sofas and dimmer lights to suggest quiet; the multimedia room had large glass tables for projects and plenty of direct light.

When your environment is inviting, it will be hard to get people to leave it, kind of like my new apartment and me. When the environment is functional, things will get done. When the environment is optimized, things will get done faster. Faster, productive employees who want to be at the office? Sounds good to me.

Check out real people's cool home offices [hat tip: Lifehacker.com].

Prepare to Stay Ahead

There has been some major backsliding going on in my life the past three or four weeks. Let’s just say some slacking has occurred… it’s like cancer. It started in one area of my life and spread quickly to the others. Part of this can be blamed on tragedy and illness, but that crutch has gotten old. It’s time to throw out the excuses and get things back on track now.

Sleep
I used to be the Queen of Good Rest. I always slept well and for the optimal time. I guarded my sleep schedule like it was Fort Knox. I defended it and nurtured it. It’s as if I’ve spent the past month beating the shit out of it and calling it a Bad Kid. It hates me now and acts like an angry toddler. When I do give myself the time to get a good night’s rest, I have problems either falling asleep or staying asleep. When I wake up, I don’t feel refreshed. I feel more tired. Last night I slept for 9 hours to make up for the 5 ½ hour sleep cycles I’ve been doing. I feel less awake. People even say I look tired. I need to get back on a schedule. I’m sure it has to do with the fact that it’s been erratic.

Diet
I’ve lost three more pounds. Most women would be excited by this. I am not. This has nothing to do with healthy weight loss – I’m not eating right. And I’m running distance. As a distance runner, weight loss is your enemy (after a certain point anyways). I am usually vigilant about my diet – 6 or 7 small, regimented meals per day. I make sure I eat enough protein, iron, dairy and good carbs. Lately, I’ve been skipping meals, not really eating anything healthy, etc. I can feel how awful it is for me. Eating well takes time. You need to get to the grocery regularly for fresh produce and plan your meals ahead if you have a jam-packed day like I do.

Running/exercise
I run four days a week like it’s my religion. Since everything happened last month, I have seriously slacked. It’s Thursday and I haven’t run at all this week. Now, this is serious business. I have a 5K and a relay marathon to run in May. I’m not where I need to be. Aside from that, running is my release. I feel energized and empowered when I’m done with a good run. I particularly enjoy the time I spend outside doing it. It’s relaxing. Skimping on this area of my life does exponential harm to me; it kills my relaxation and my health.

Budget
Ugh. To be fair, I’ve lost 18 pounds since I got sober. The first five came off right away (I was a beer drinker – muy fattening). The rest I lost in the past 5 months or so through the combination of a healthy diet and running. So, I’m down a few sizes in almost everything, especially work clothes. That’s where I’m blowing my money. I’m close to overdrafting my bank account, and that is a place I really hate to be.

General cleanliness
Please step away from the apartment, miss. Really, things are pretty messy on the home front. I’m never in my apartment and since I am moving next weekend, I decided not to worry about doing much until then. Really, all I’ve done is create more work for myself when I start packing. The car is in pretty bad shape too – a cleaning inside and out is definitely in order.

Tardiness
Running around at break-neck speed has caused me to forget just about everything. (Hello? I brought my running clothes, but left my sneakers. Is anyone home?) I am sleeping as late as I can, and thus making it to work perpetually 15 minutes late, which causes me to leave 15 minutes late, throwing my entire schedule into chaos. That does not look good to the boss either. And, let’s face it, tardiness is tacky.

The Solution
The best people in my life always tell me to get out of the problem and into the solution. Having defined the problem, I know how to tackle it. One of my major problems has been budgeting time for preparation. Most of the things above can be eliminated if I will simply slow down and take the time to prepare for them.

I need to prepare my food for the next day. I need to get my bag of running gear together the night before. I have to take the time to sit down with monthly bills twice a month and look at how much I can afford to spend on clothes, etc. I need to spend just 10 little minutes cleaning up when I get home instead of falling onto the couch with the laptop for an hour. And finally, I need to guard my sleep schedule like it was the Most Precious and Dear Thing on the Earth again.

You Can Land a Job, But You Can't Land a Man: Successful Women Remain Single

An article caught my eye earlier this week on MSN about the (apparent) amplitude of single, successful women who (gasp) may never find a man.

The article sites the following as the major obstacles these women are facing:
1. They want someone as successful as they are
2. Little time leftover for dating after work and other priorities

But there is one that stands out as the bigger issue:
3. They simply intimidate their male counterparts

I recently had a conversation with Guy I’ve Been Seeing about this very thing. I’m not exactly your prototypical hard-as-nails businesswoman. I don’t think they’ve existed since the ‘80s and the days of mandatory hosiery in the office, so let’s just kill that stereotype now. I am, however, very driven and motivated, like so many of my fellow successful Gen Y females.

Since high school, my intelligence and my inability to hide behind a pretty, artificially dumbed-down exterior has gotten in the way of my love life. I began to notice the trend in college, when one of my friends pointed out to me that guys were probably just intimidated by me. Me? I asked. I’m 5’ 3”, a buck-nothing. How is that intimidating? A boyfriend confirmed the theory. “You’ve always intimidated me,” he said. “You’re smart, but in a business way that I’m not.”

GIBS couldn’t believe this. “You? Intimidating? How?” he said. I explained to him about how most guys (I’m speaking from experience now) would rather have someone who is a little less complicated, a little easier, with a little more time on their hands… in essence, they would rather be the alpha. I don’t work well with that. I don’t like being the alpha either, though.

That’s where the real problems start to happen. It’s a difficult balance to find – a guy that challenges you would have to be at your level in some sense, pursuing his own goals, career, and success, who is also supportive of your success, and who is looking for that type of woman. Not to mention all the other little stuff people like in relationships, like compatibility, shared values and common interests, etc.

That’s not to say I haven’t had boyfriends. Up until the past year, I was in a string of long-term relationships since high school. The problem was that the guys I ended up with simply didn’t have the cojones to challenge me the way I needed to be back then. I’ve finally learned how to challenge myself, but I think I’d still like someone who is working on achieving his own big dreams and goals.

So, now here I am at 26, single for the first time since college and I’m being given a fairly bleak outlook. The more successful I become, the harder it’s going to be to connect.

But see, I don’t think these women are sitting around at home, crying into their Chardonnay about it. I think the article totally misses the point. These women aren’t willing to settle for anything less than what they want because the lesson their success has taught them is that they can achieve great things in spite of the odds. They are Whole People who aren’t okay with accepting anything less than another Whole Person.

Speaking for myself, I have accepted the idea that I could possibly never be married. Some people might say that this is a self-fulfilling prophecy. I don’t think it is. Fifty percent of all marriages in divorce, remember? A very small fraction of married folk believe their marriage could in divorce. Who’s fooling whom here? If I can be okay with being single for potentially the rest of my life, then I am not going to wait around to do things. I’m going to charge full force. And somewhere out there, there is a guy who thinks that’s hot. He’s the guy for me.

Are Schedules Made for Breaking?

I recently got a question from a reader and responded to it. It clarifies some of my thoughts related to relationships, ambition and organization, so I thought I would share it here.

Question:
"Just curious, are you secretly one day hoping for some man of your dreams character to come along and throw you off your schedule and change your life? Or do you ever feel like maybe you're organizing your life too much? I'm not saying you are, but a lot of the blog is organizing your life, and though you're not there now, it seems like you might progressively become a schedule book. Sometimes I want to become a schedule book, but just so I can break out of it."

Answer:
"Hmm... No, I don't secretly want a man to throw me off my path. As a matter of fact, the past few months I've become rather relationship phobic. I would say that I'm afraid someone will throw me off, but I'm not afraid of it because I know I wouldn't let it happen.

I schedule my time, but I schedule it so that I can fit in all the things that I love doing. When I was doing it without a schedule, I felt crazed and time-starved constantly. The fun things were falling to the wayside because I was running around distracted.

I leave big gaps in my schedule. Sunday, for example, has just a few items: run, write blogs, post blog. None of them have set times, it's more a loose to-do list. I fully intend to spend most of that day on the beach with my iPod, some Jack Johnson and a book (which will probably be used more as a pillow than for reading). And I shall eat strawberries and wonder what the poor people are doing (i.e. people in snow, not near water, etc.).

I understand what you mean though. I used to come up with schedules in college just so I could rebel against them - it made me feel spontaneous to be at Wal-Mart buying hula hoops at 1 am when I should have been writing my Vonnegut paper.

That you would consider someone to be rescuing you from your scheduled self makes me think that you don't enjoy schedules in the first place. Some people work well with highly-organized agendas, like me. I'm a terribly disorganized person in reality (you should see my apartment), so people marvel when they see my color-coded planner with my entire week neatly arranged. 

Why? Because I couldn't freakin' remember to do ANY of it if I didn't do this. If I were naturally organized and prompt, I wouldn't need multiple alarm clocks, a color-coded organization system, and e-mail reminders. If I were a naturally focused person, I wouldn't need productivity methods. I am simply a person who knows 1. her weaknesses, and 2. what she needs to do to accomplish her goals.

Do I want someone to rescue me? No. Do I want someone to share my beach blanket and smile back when I wonder what the poor people are doing? Sure. Do I want someone to sympathize with me when I get done with an 18-hour day? Absolutely. But I want someone who respects me enough to know that what I do is important to me and who supports me in it, who believes that I can do it - not someone who wants to 'take me away from it all.' 

I enjoy my life, so immensely. It's full, it's productive; readers (some friends, but mostly strangers) e-mail me and say what I'm writing is making a difference. That's why I do this. This is worth it to me. I wouldn't have it any other way."

One Life, Two Jobs

I recently acquired a second job in addition to my regular 8-5 corporate job. It was meant to accomplish two things: 1. Give me practical experience in the field in which I aim to start a business one day, and 2. Give me a little extra income to put toward savings for a house and investments.

I thought long and hard before deciding to take on a second job. Would I be able to handle the hours out of my social life and other entrepreneurial ventures? What toll would it take on my primary job/career? Were my reasons solid enough to keep me interested and motivated when I got tired and missed the beach?

It’s important to understand that my second job was not driven by the second reason – additional income. In "Rich Woman," Kim Kiyosaki talks about finding your Why, the thing that is going to keep you going when you want to give up, when you want to be a ‘normal’ person instead of spending all of your free time like some kind of freak who has two jobs and two companies to run. Ahem…

My Why in this case is establishing my own coffee bar. I never imagined I could ever do anything so bold as owning my own café, but one fateful encounter brought me to the realization that given the right Why, I am capable of almost anything. And while I feel that my Why is a very strong one, I found myself burnt out and near tears at the end of my second weekend of my new job, screaming in my head that today will be the last day I work here.

Luckily for me, one of the other cafés I had applied to at the same time as Job A called me for an interview. I rushed from the end of my shift to the interview. This new place was heaven. It was exactly what I had wanted in the other job but wasn’t getting. The owner sat in on the interview and got excited as I answered the “What is your defining characteristic or passion?” question promptly and firmly: “Entrepreneurship.”

This was the ideal situation. The owners were starting this shop from scratch after they dreamed about it for a year or two. They were excited to take me under their wings and show me what they did and were doing. The shop also hadn’t opened yet, so I got to see everything from the ground up. I have been trained on all elements of the business, whereas the other job had me working only in one area, and it had nothing to do with coffee. Bonus: They were completely understanding and sensitive to me having a full-time job and the need to have a weekend day off (I could only work 7-hour shifts every weekend day at the other café).

Establish your Why
It is crucial that you have a rock-solid Why before you go into a second job. Ask yourself what you want to accomplish with your new job. Are you trying to gain experience to add to your resume or for a future endeavor? Are you working for additional income? If so, establish a really great Why for how you intend to use the money you make from it. Your free time is worth a lot, and most part-time jobs aren’t going to pay a lot. There has to be a bigger pay-off besides money. If you are saving for a new home or for an investment, then establish this as your Why.

Use your Why when the going gets tough
Even with the new, totally amazing job that I love, love, love, I still get tired. When it’s Saturday midnight and I’m finishing my shift for the second night in a row, I think about my girlfriends and how they are probably out dancing after a day at the beach. As I start down that slippery slope I close my eyes and conjure up images of my own future café. I picture my employees, my couches, me chatting up the regulars. I throw in the added bonus of imagining leaving my café and going home to that house I’m saving up for from the additional income. Once I’m home and in bed, I know I wouldn’t be happy doing it any other way.

Define what you want from your second job
What days and hours do you want to work? Exactly what functions would you like to be serving and what role would you like to be in? Define the ideal situation before you go into it so that you can gauge whether or not the position is going to benefit you. The problem I had with Job A wasn’t that my Why wasn’t strong enough; the problem was that the hours didn’t work for me and I wasn’t learning anything beneficial for my end goal. When I saw Job B, I knew right away it was what I wanted. I didn’t need the first one; I would’ve quit it whether or not the other place I offered me a position.

Don’t over-commit yourself
If I were being realistic when I accepted Job A, I would’ve realized that working Saturdays and Sundays 8-4 on top of my Monday-Friday 8-5 wasn’t going to work out well. By the end of the second week I was exhausted and a crazed mess. All I did for those two weeks was come home from whichever job and try to get up the energy to do laundry, dishes, etc. I wasn’t eating properly, I was skipping workouts, and I was skimping on my personal life big time. I was so unhappy, and everyone could see it. Job B allows me to work shifts on weekday evenings and will schedule me for only one weekend day because they agreed with me when I said if I didn’t have one day off I would “go nuts.”

Don’t waste your precious time, but don’t give up
If you simply are not getting what you want out of your second job, leave it. Your free time is too precious to waste. Just be honest with yourself – don’t leave a second job if it’s benefiting you just because you want to hit the bar more often. Most people go through life sleeping; the ones who are awake live in a constant state of amazement. Don't be content with the status quo - that's sleeping. You’ll know deep down whether or not it’s worth it. I knew Job A was without a doubt a major waste of my spare time. I had such a strong feeling about Job B, however, that it almost felt kismet that it appeared when it did. I think you’ll know, but if you aren't sure, give it a shot and quit if it’s not what you wanted.

If money is your Why…
If your Why is the additional income a second job will generate, I have a few suggestions for making it work. Put all of it toward your goal. It can be tempting to splurge on all those little things you’ve been denied based on your regular salary. Don’t give in. A few weeks into it you’ll lose your drive because you can’t see it adding up.

Set up a separate account for this new income. If possible set up a direct deposit for that paycheck into a savings account instead of your checking account. I use ING for my savings instead of my regular bank because it has a higher interest rate and it’s not as convenient to withdrawal from (I am often tempted when I get low on cash to dip into my savings, so ING’s 2-3 day withdrawal time is key for me).

Finally, put some kind of visual reminder of where that money is going somewhere where you’ll see it everyday. This will not only keeping you motivated, but it will keep you from spending it on a new set of plates you don’t need from Pier 1.

Work: My Security Blanket

Like Linus, the Peanuts character whose blue blankie is ever-present, so I am with my tan-and-black workbag. It contains whatever two or three books I’m reading (currently Eat Pray Love, Rich Dad Poor Dad, and E-Myth), my planner, two journals (one personal and one career-related), pens, pencils, highlighters, and all the lovely little things that go in a normal purse.

I lug it around with me everywhere. I get razzed endlessly by my friends, family, or whoever else is around to be embarrassed by what is clearly too large and inappropriate for the movies, a restaurant, or shopping. “What do you need all that for?” is a frequently-asked question.

What do I need it all for? Well, just in case. In case of what? In case I have a free moment. In case I end up somewhere alone. Just in case.

So, here I am in my hometown of Pensacola for my grandfather’s funeral, lugging around my bag of work gear endlessly, not getting anything done. I have nothing to do. My work stuff is all at the office. Staying with relatives means no Internet (slinking away from relations for a daily dose of coffee and Internet seems addict-like), so I can’t work on the blog. Endless chaos and noise and relatives you’ve not seen for years do not make for an environment conducive to reading or journaling. So, my bag is useless.

Which means I CAN’T WORK. For some reason, this has me geeking out more than anything. I have no routine. All of my pet projects, all of my entrepreneurial endeavors, everything that has defined my waking (and sometimes sleeping) life is unavailable to me. A big gaping hole of non-productivity – that’s what I feel like. It’s like an itch that can’t be scratched. I guess the real problem is that I want to be back in my life.

In reality, I simply don’t want to be here – not here in Pensacola or at my grandfather’s funeral. I don’t want to be going through this.

I don’t think that it’s uncommon to use work as a security blanket. Often times, we simply don’t want to deal with the big emotional things looming larger than life – surely updating the margin widths of my website is of the utmost importance. Hmm…

I won’t go on a lengthy diatribe about how detrimental a workaholic attitude (the use of work as a way to not deal with emotional pain) can be. We know that it ruins marriages, families, relationships, and friendships, and can lead to even bigger isms (alcoholism, obsessive compulsive disorder, depression). It also doesn’t get you anywhere.

Someone once told me that painful things will happen in life and you’ll have an overwhelming urge to do something, anything about it. You will be frantic trying to find a way to fix it, to plug the hole through which emotion is flowing, like the Dutch boy with his finger in a dam. Unfortunately, we come across situations that we can’t do anything about. There is simply nothing to be done about losing two people you care very much about in less than two weeks. There is nothing to be done about 12-hour drives, crazy families and heartache. The only thing you can do is feel the pain. All you can do is simply stand.

I don’t really know how I made it through actually. I can tell you that I feel somehow stronger knowing that I came through all of it without any crutches. I know I can survive almost anything. Asking for a raise no longer seems like the earth-shattering event it was three weeks ago. The thought of not seeing that guy anymore is no longer life-altering. Everything seems somehow smaller, paltry. I know I weather any unexpected storm. I know I can stand.

Stand undeterred.

From Derailed to Steaming Ahead

Through a combination of events, some of them brought on by my own self and some of them acts of god, my life has completely and totally derailed in the past week. I mean, we're talking wrapped-around-a-garbage-can, laying-on-the-floor, we-might-need-to-go-the-emergency-room derailed. Part of this was shock from the loss of my friend, but part of it was also that I was simply pushing myself way too hard.

The Problem
My philosophy in life is to get out of the problem and into the solution. With the funeral behind me this morning and a still-full schedule ahead of me, I made an internal decision to get with the program today. After all, the apartment is unbelievably gross right now, laundry is unwashed, food spoiling in the fridge... it's all I could do to wake up and zombie-walk myself to where I'm supposed to be at any given hour this past week. But into the solution, right?

If you've got a full schedule and you're derailed, how do you get back on track? It can be difficult when you run a tight schedule to catch up on the things you missed and keep up the pace you're used to operating at. After all, you've pretty much just been bombed. Now that the shock has worn off, you have time to survey the debris.

The Solution
So, that's where I start. The apartment needs to be cleaned, the laundry done, the dishes put away and the fridge cleaned out and restocked (oh yeah, we've forgotten to eat haven't we?). The car needs the oil changed and the tires rotated. I need two new pairs of jeans and new running shoes. Oh crap, I forgot to pay the electric. Clearly, this is going to take a few hours. I don't have a few hours. I don't have a half-hour, for crying out loud. 

I wish I could say I had a magical solution, some brilliant piece of wisdom you'd never in a million years think of. But I don't. And that's unfortunate for both of us. Because my answer is to take half of Friday, the day I was supposed to be in Austin for South by Southwest with my best friend from NYC who I haven't seen in a year, and get all this crap done. It sucks, but that's all there is to it. 

'Be Excellent to Each Another'
Oh, the wisdom of Bill and Ted... The fact of the matter is I can't get back on track after something like this without taking the time to be good to myself. I've been treating my body like crap this week. I haven't eaten right; I haven't jogged, done yoga or slept. I am in debt. I cannot simply go back to cash; I have to pay off my deficit first or my body's interest will compound. And bad health debt has a high rate - 20% at least. It doesn't take long for it to get out of control.

Buddhists say the definition of suffering is the desire to be anywhere other than where you are. I wish this hadn't happened, I wish my little life hadn't been bombed, but it has. Now it's time to pick up the pieces, rebuild and move forward. Hopefully, life will balance out again soon. It's just going to take some patience with myself and a little time to be good to myself again.

Survey. Respond. Rebuild.

On Traveling Well

I am an ambitious person. At certain points in my life, even certain points in my day, I would say it is my defining characteristic. Ambition is a delicate dance, at least for me. I have a lot of things I want to accomplish and I tend to charge at them full-speed, burning the candle at both ends. This is how I love to live.

This is my life:

• Monday through Friday I work at my main job as a market research analyst from 8-5pm. 
  
• Saturday and Sunday I work a part-time job as a baker from 8-3pm.
• I jog for half-an-hour four times a week.
• I try to post three or four times a week on this blog on weeknights when I get home from my jog.
  
• On Wednesday I meet with my entrepreneurship group from 5:30-7pm.
  
• I’m about to begin IT freelance work one or two nights a week.
  
• I actually attempt to date and have a social life somewhere in this.

So, now you might imagine a frazzled, gnarly-looking woman running around trying to get all this stuff done. OK, yes, sometimes I am her. But most of the time I’m not. Time management is not my problem. Being present in my life is my problem.

Being so goal-driven and ambitious can turn even the most balanced person into someone who lives in and for the future. This is exactly the kind of person I don’t want to be. It might sound trite but living in the moment really is about taking the time to notice the little things around you.

For example, I make a point to jog in what must be the most gorgeous and inspiring scenic area in my town. Every time I hit a certain hill and look over the cliffs down to the ocean, I smile and realize how great it is to be exactly where I am right then - that the weather is nice, that the ocean smells salty, that I have the ability to run, that I have the life I always wanted but never went after. That’s being present.

I am not always present in my life. Sometimes I hit that same hill and I’m calculating how much more that raise got me per month and whether it would be better to put it toward my car payment, credit card payment or into savings. I try to calculate the percentages. I think about what I have to do when I get home. I am not being at that moment; I am a “being-for-the-future.”

At the end of the days when I don’t live in the moment, I realize that no one point in the day sticks out to me. I know somehow that I won’t remember this day in a few years, or even a few weeks or days. It was just another day in a series of days in this period of my life. I don’t like that feeling. I don’t want to waste my days.

It may seem morose, but I try to keep myself in touch with my mortality. I try to be the best version of myself in my everyday interactions with others, toward myself, in my personal and professional relationships. I fall short most days. Most days I don’t want to remember that today is all I have.

Make plans for the future. Work your ass off to get to your goals, but enjoy the process. Be present in your life. Blow off studying for a great conversation with a friend. That conversation may be the one that gets you where you need to be. I believe that the little things in life are what create the biggest changes, like the butterfly flapping its wings causes a tidal wave halfway around the world.

Buddha said, “It is better to travel well than it is to arrive.” I don’t want to get to where I plan to be in 10 years and say, “OK, now my life can begin.” All you have is today. Decide what kind of person you want to be in the world and be that person just for today. 

Who do you want to be today?